


One Prayer

by knightshade



Category: Knight Rider (1982)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 04:22:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5233922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightshade/pseuds/knightshade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Devon makes it a point to attend church for a very particular reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Prayer

**Author's Note:**

> I have wondered vaguely from time to time what religions the characters would be, but I assume Anglican would be a safe bet for Devon and this just came out of contemplating that. I’m not Episcopalian. I did try to research as much as I could, but there may be some details in here that are more Catholic than Episcopal.

Devon Miles made his way through the vestibule and cringed inwardly as the priest noticed him and tipped his head slightly in greeting. Devon knew that his accent and manner of dress, today a charcoal gray suit when most of the men were wearing khakis, made him salient. He was easily spotted and easily remembered. Shortly after he had officially joined this church, the priest had casually asked about his frequent non-attendance. Devon had explained his travel schedule and the priest, Father Tom, had nodded his clemency. What Devon had left out was that he did not generally attend services while he travelled. When they were on the road there was rarely time off. Criminals didn't keep the Sabbath and neither did they. But often Devon was simply too engaged in their cases to look for an Episcopal church to attend. 

Devon entered the church proper and found an empty pew close to the back. He genuflected toward the altar, slid into the pew, and crossed himself. He closed his eyes and could detect the faint whiff of incense, so pungent when it was first burned, now a faint reminder of the ceremonial shroud the church wore. It took him back to his youth, attending services with his family. This Episcopal church was very traditional, a high church, that was similar to the Anglican one he grew up in, but still there were shades of difference. The Episcopal Church was not an exact replica of its English cousin. It was clearly American in the way of coffee instead of tea and bloody being a description instead of an expletive. There were nuances and shades of meaning that registered differently. 

Devon was not a deeply religious man, but as the saying went, there were no atheists in fox holes. He believed in God and prayed silently and privately when the feeling moved him. He tried to be a good person and felt that the social justice work that the Foundation engaged in melded nicely with his religious beliefs. But he wasn’t particularly beholden to a specific church or dogma. He stuck with his Anglican roots out of habit - he was as traditional as the church he'd chosen. 

The service began and Devon followed along. In the early days the specifics had been a little foreign – a change in detail here and there that tripped him up. It had taken years for everything to become ingrained and comfortably familiar. Even now he occasionally stumbled where the words were slightly different, echoes of his childhood tripping up his fluency with his religious second language. He bowed his head and listened to the reading of the scripture. Today was the story of how God granted King Solomon the gift of wisdom after he’d asked for it humbly. The priest’s sermon expanded on the lesson in humility and Devon was reminded that lack of humility was a sin he wrestled with more than he cared to admit. 

And then came the Prayers of the People. The prayers for changes both big and small. Everything from the desire for world peace to a blessing for people in one’s own life who’d passed. This was what kept him coming back, more than deep religiosity or tradition or even guilt. He came to ask for his one prayer to continue to be answered, for bloody to remain an expletive and not a description of those he cared about and sent into harm’s way every day. He cared about his makeshift family very deeply but he was keenly aware of fragile it was, how easily it could all fall apart. His hope was that if said with the power and strength of a whole congregation, this prayer would somehow carry more weight. 

There were no atheists in foxholes. 

“And for the special needs and concerns of this congregation…” the priest said and then paused, giving everyone a chance to contemplate. 

God, please keep them safe, Devon murmured. 

"...we pray,” said the priest. 

And the congregation answered. 

“Lord, hear our prayer.”

\--------------  
-knightshade  
November 17, 2015


End file.
